Time: evening
Place: a town house full of wet cloaks, sodden shoes drying on the stairs, below the Aventine.
Subject: conversation between M. Didius Falco, informer, and Helena Justina, confidante.
Mood: stubborn.
“Where are you?”
“Here.”
“Where’s here?”
“In this room.”
“Which room? I’m not a fortune-teller. Oh, there you are.”
“Yes, I told you I’m here. Hello, Marcus.”
“Hello, awkward. Ask about my day.”
“Looking at you, I’d rather not.”
“Right. How was yours?”
“Curious.”
“Any use?”
“Possibly.”
“Help me out; I’m tired.”
“Sit, and I’ll pull your boots off . . . Well, I saw Euboule—a fright, eyes sliding off in all directions guiltily. I couldn’t see why Ursulina hates them so much, but your mother thought the whole setup was sinister. They live well. There’s a crèche of several infants. They’ve been doing the job for years. Euboule was a wet nurse for Calpurnia, her daughter for Saffia. Trusted retainers, it seems.”
“That so? Do they have the Negrinus new baby?”
“No. Juliana and Carina did seem set against them—that’s why I was curious. But, Marcus: I did see one child I recognized. He was very quiet, but playing happily. He seemed quite at home. Little Lucius.”
“Lutea told me Lucius had gone to his ‘foster mother’ . . . So she’s the wet nurse? That’s odd.”
“Why, Marcus?”
“Saffia made out Calpurnia Cara insisted she use a nurse to feed the Negrinus daughter. Saffia pretended to hate it. Yet she had previously farmed out Lucius voluntarily to Zeuko? Why would Saffia lie?”
“Marcus, maybe you’ll want your boots back on, if I tell you about Zeuko—”
“Zeuko wasn’t there today?”
“No. She had rushed off in hysterics because of her lover.”
“Zeuko’s having a fling?”
“I’d guess, one of several. But this one matters—to us, that is. Somebody saw this man being dragged into the local vigiles’ patrol house this morning.”
“I think I’ve guessed.”
“I’m sure you have, Marcus. Euboule and her daughter live in the Fifth Region. The local vigiles are the Second Cohort. And Zeuko’s lover is called Perseus.”